


waltz

by fishysama



Series: commishies [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/F, Pre-Relationship, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishysama/pseuds/fishysama
Summary: lesbian dancing... lesbian dancing...a commission from @/nyabami on tumblr! thank u for such a fun write qaq
Relationships: Princess Lenoir Peiji Glory/Duchess Mikhail Anneliese Chavaze
Series: commishies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1452514
Kudos: 1





	waltz

**Author's Note:**

> (kinda wack that i haven't posted lesbian stuff on here yet,, considering i'm a lesbian lmao)

“Mikhail, wait!”

“Oh, quiet. There aren’t many other options.”

The word that best fit the dance hall was “grand.” With high ceilings, delicate marble floors, and heavily ornate decorations, the room was fit for royalty. But, what was happening in the dance hall was quite far from “royal.” If anything, it was awkward, clumsy, embarrassing.

“Mikhail, really! We shouldn’t—”

“Did I not just tell you to be quiet?”

“...”

It’s supposed to be a perfect, dignified night; it was the annual ball, after all. It celebrated some event that honored some past king that was discussed in some history class that Lenoir slept through. But she knows it is a ball. She knows that you’re meant to dance at a ball with a potential  _ male  _ suitor, not your  _ female _ childhood friend that you may or may not have feelings for. The ball, however, is two men short.

Mikhail has Lenoir by the hand and the waist, taking the lead in the dance, directing where Lenoir’s feet should land, where her eyes should be looking. “If we just dance together,” the duchess reassures, “No one will notice. It’s more likely that they’ll see we aren’t playing the part if we stand at the sidelines.”

Lenoir sighs, trying to keep her feet moving to the beat of the waltz. “Hopefully so,” she smiles slightly, “I’d rather not have the queen come scold me again.”

Mikhail hums in agreement, dipping Lenoir’s back in time with the rest of the dancers. They both ignore the utter embarrassment contained within this moment.

This situation wasn’t completely unfamiliar to them; they were usually each other’s partners at dance practice (once again, two men short). But, this dance was meant to be romantic, or at least used to form bonds with those in other states. They were meant to be finding husbands.

String instruments run through chords. The tapping of heels fills the room like raindrops on the roof. “You look nervous, Princess,” says Mikhail.

The princess in question lowers her voice to where it lilts over the tapping and the murmurs and the melodies. “Of course I am.” She avoids the eyes of her friend, trying to keep her focus on the beat of the dance rather than that of her heart. She avoids the way their hands are touching.

Mikhail never had trouble hearing her. She pretends not to. Her thumb rubs along the corset at Lenoir’s waist.

With a few final climactic strokes, the orchestra brings an end to its waltz. Light chatter and applause manifest in the room. Lenoir’s hand still rests in Mikhail’s own as it did while they danced. They pause for a moment, unsure as to when they should part.

Mikhail is the first to drop her hand, semi-awkwardly so. “That wasn’t too horrific now, was it?” 

Lenoir covers her mouth as she giggles, “I guess.” She leans her head on Mikhail’s shoulder. “Yeah.”


End file.
